My husband is changing jobs after working at this one since he was 15. It's been his only job for his entire life. It's a family business, and he has loved it, but it's time. Change is moving in, people are moving on. It's the right thing, but that doesn't make it easier. Nothing is easy right now, because nothing is familiar.

That Lost Feeling

I remember that same lost feeling for the first few months of marriage, maybe even the whole first year. I was knocked-out in love with my husband (I still am) and I knew I wanted nothing else but to be with him. But it wasn't easy because it was all so different. No parents. No familiar routine. No Mom to run errands with. No old friends to call up for shopping or coffee. Everything was new and different, and because of that, it was difficult to accept.

Everything changed with one morning's strange epiphany during that first year. Joe was doing something - I don't even remember what - but it was different than what I was used to. I was just watching him, feeling that tightening, the offense at what was unfamiliar, when it came: the fact that it was different didn't make it wrong. It just made it different, and I could get used to different.

I Can Get Used to Different

That moment was the first in many steps upward, back to the comfortable glow of familiarity. When I reached that threshold of being comfortable in my new life, it wasn't because I had finally managed to make it the same as my old life. It was because I had accepted a new set of circumstances and behaviors and routines and surroundings as my own. I had put aside the prejudice against the unknown, allowed it to come close enough to me to become known, and had accepted it as something equally good to what I had before. In many ways, something much, much better.

The One That Stuck

I could have shortened that process had I learned a little something about acceptance before getting married. I think it was shorter than it might have been because I had been watching, a long time, and making those resolutions that single people love to make before marriage. A lot of them disappeared once I experienced marriage, but one stuck. Over and over I had seen my friends and family expend all their energy on changing their spouses. It seemed so obvious to me, the single and objective onlooker. You can't change somebody else, and you just frustrate each other when you try.

Create a New Right

I didn't understand the powerful motivation of wanting to accomplish that change until I entered marriage. It's not as simple and petty as I thought, not necessarily a power struggle, though it often turns into that. Mostly we start trying to change each other because we are trying to create a life that feels right. We have strong ideas about what right is. It takes a good bucketful of humility dumped on your head before you realize that sometimes "right" is merely a matter of preference, and fighting to the death over preference is just stupid. Create a new right, together, and you'll both be happier.

I think that's what acceptance is. It's letting go of comfort long enough to get close to the unfamiliar. It's letting go of assumptions long enough to see that the unfamiliar isn't so bad. It's letting go of control long enough to let someone else's preferences be just as important as yours. It's a difficult thing to do.

But we need to learn how to do it.

Some days I wake up and I don't feel comfortable with myself. Some days the whole world feels foreign. Some days the ability to accept is the only thing I've got going.

So I'm thinking about registering for this 5k. I need to lose ten pounds before I start getting baby fat again. Hmm.I need to get some motivation for exercising regularly, and paying $20 to be in a 5K might just do it. I worked in the yard for 2 hours today. That's a good start. I've been tired, and haven't gotten up early as usual for the past couple of days. That's not a good start. I'm behind on a few things... but I weeded all around my compost bin and the back patio. I did not take "before" photos because, well, it was just too ugly. I don't have any "after" photos yet, either, because I'm not through yet.

I guess I have two goals with exercising: I figure if I can get myself up early again, and go out for a 30 minute walk in the morning, then I can spend 20 minutes working in the yard/garden. And, if I am walking and gardening every day, I can get in shape enough to survive a 5K.

I'm kind of talking myself into this...

I get us all on a pretty, shiny schedule, and these silly kids won't quit growing. Mara stays awake through at least one naptime, now, wreaking havoc instead of sleeping peacefully. The days of two extended kid-quiet times are over.

Yesterday I kept Mara up in the morning while Robbie napped as usual. I didn't really have a plan, just a vague idea that I would throw some toys over in the living room and she would play quietly while I wrote for a couple of hours as usual. Every person reading this who has a child is laughing right now. You know what happened, or rather, what didn't happen.

She did pretty well at staying in her designated play area; we've worked on that before so it's nothing new. But the playing quietly all by herself - when Mommy is still in sight - oh ha ha.

"Mama, cor?" (color) "No, baby, not now. Mommy's working."

"Mama, wead? Book?" "No, sweetie, not now. Mommy's working."

"Mama, choo choo tree?" (choo choo train). "No, Mommy's not going to play with trains right now."

"Mama! Boo!" (Her little head pops up from behind the bench at the dining table. I can't help laughing. The scenario repeats two hundred times.)

I didn't get much work done yesterday morning. She took a great nap in the afternoon, so I think the schedule works well for her, but by afternoon my mental abilities move at a slug-like pace. I can do general no-think stuff, like pay bills and cook and deal with the mail and answer emails, but actual writing doesn't go too well after 3 p.m. So I took a nap, too. I guess the day wasn't a complete loss.

Last night, after putting the babies to bed and whining to Joe for a bit, I took a nice long soak in the bathtub, because that's what I do when I need to think. (That, or take a long walk, and I was just not feeling up to it.) Here are my options: 1) Quit trying to do anything other than just the Mommy/run the household thing. 2) Continue shutting Mara in her room during morning nap time, giving her a pile of books, and hoping nothing catastrophic happens. 3) Figure out a way to keep her occupied with her own "work" while Mommy works.

Oh, #3 I like! Actually, #1 sounds appealing when I'm tired at night, but I really enjoy writing, web design, and helping Joe with his business stuff; even if I wanted to quit, I probably couldn't extricate myself at this point. And I've done solely the Mommy/Household thing for months on end; while it was challenging and fun, a significant part of me was missing. I got bored. I started to contemplate taking up complicated craft projects that require a large investment in many tiny itty bitty supplies. But I don't like crafting. You make "crafty," I make "crappy." It's just not me.

I like a pile of projects on my to-do list. I like learning new things, writing, reading, thinking, analyzing information, writing, compiling, finding resources, researching, organizing projects, managing, writing.

So. #1 is out, #2 is stupid. #3 is it. Brilliant. How?

I've been reading about Montessori methods lately (you can see my post on it here) so I decided that's what I wanted to incorporate, on a very small scale. Basically, next to my office, set up a play area for Mara with several different activities that she can get out and put away herself, a little Mara-sized table and chair, and provide a little direction when needed. I figured that would work for about an hour or so, then I can let her watch a Baby Einstein, and then rest for 20 or 30 minutes, because she still gets a little tired. (At this point I stopped planning, because my hands were all wrinkly. Time to get out of the bathtub.)

One problem: my current "office" is the dining room table. This morning I tackled clearing off half of the long table Joe uses as a desk in the basement. It's a work in progress (don't look at the far end of the table, past Joe's really huge monitor, to the piles of stuff.) It's workable, though; I have a nice, big, clean work space for laptop, papers, books, phone, big glass of water, camera... And I can use Joe's chair because he's not here in the mornings. Whoopdedoo!

I have a big rug on the floor over to the right. I found a little green table that is the perfect Mara size, and she has a paint can for a stool, plus her own little rocking chair. I'm still working on the activities; today she colored for quite a while, then played with her number and shape cards until I decided it was movie time. Yes, she interrupted me several times, but with a little direction and encouragement she kept herself occupied for the most part.

I'm thinking this can work. I'm hoping. I'm really, really hoping...

Maria Montessori, you better not have made this stuff up.

Resistance is the most toxic force on the planet.

It is the root of more unhappiness than poverty, disease, and erectile dysfunction. To yield to Resistance deforms our spirit. It stunts us and makes us less than we are and were born to be. If you believe in God (and I do) you must declare Resistance evil, for it prevents us from achieving the life God intended when He endowed each of us with our own unique genius. (From the book The War of Art by Steven Pressfield)

The work of art, of creation, is given all of us.

We have a calling. Starting a profitable business, baking cookies, writing poetry, raising children, running a shop, fixing cars, making crafts, designing shoes, doing accounts, designing curriculum, painting, singing, reading, reviewing, helping, overseeing, managing, organizing; whatever the term, some action, some work for life, is yours. It belongs to you and you belong to it. No one is relieved of this responsibility. No one is inartistic, or unable, just dull, unmotivated, lazy, fearful.

Every attempt we make toward something higher and better finds resistance.

We camouflage the call. We are afraid to see it. We make it all so complicated when most of it is so very, very simple. Go check the Self-Help section. Hundreds of titles all say essentially the same thing. This month's version has newer packaging and a cuter catch-phrase. But it's either 1) stuff you know instinctively or 2) drivel to make you feel good about ignoring the stuff you know instinctively.

This article, for instance.

You don't need it.

You know there are things you need to do in life. You know there are particular things for you to do. You feel the tug. You know there is resistance because you are the one resisting. You even know what to do about the resistance, don't you? No? Can't remember? I'll give you a hint:

Ignore the resistance and do what you're supposed to do anyway. Take action.

(Okay, that was more than a hint.) But you knew already! You could probably write this article but for one small quality I (we assume) have and you (we assume) would like to have more of: the voice of successful experience.

Oh yes, you have experience.

You have knowledge. but you're reading this article on the premise that I, the Author-with-a-capital-A, not only have the knowledge but also have the map to the secret goldmine you need: success in applying the knowledge. That little glimmer of gold is what keeps the self-help genre alive. If we share the same knowledge, have similar experience, but I have succeeded and you have not (yet, you say to yourself), then I must have the secret. The key. The difference. It's in this article, somewhere. If you read it all, it will be bestowed upon you, like a prize for wading through all the paragraphs: the final key to insert into the slot which will unlock the door which will release the treasure of your own creative genius successfully!

It's just a flash in the pan.

Ever hear of fool's gold? It's just a sparkly mineral, but there were lots of gold rush miners who got pretty excited. For a while.

The only thing I know that you don't know is that there is no secret to success.

Understand, I'm not saying there is nothing secret about the deep, divine, meaningful, beautiful, worthwhile things of life. There is, and all of us struggle continually to get closer, get more, get immersed, or else to utterly deny its existence. We identify with different parts of the struggle. Marriage, parenting, organizing, self-esteem, setting limits, creative flow. Whatever. The common, and misleading, theme is this: You are a Victim and I, the Helpful Author/Owner/Guru will set you free. I have the key that you, poor child, were never given. I have the question you didn't know you could ask. I'm not better or smarter or worthier... just luckier.

Here's a simple idea we need to deconstruct:

If I'm not successful (moreso than you) because I am better/smarter/worthier than you, why should you listen to me? Don't you want a teacher who is wiser than you? Yes. You do. Heretofore you have gone right along with (sincere or not) self-deprecating authors and have attributed success to that lucky something, that missing piece they somehow found that you somehow missed. They were good enough to share it with you. That's only right, really.

Let's rethink all that.

I'm not saying I am smarter or better or worthier than you. I'm probably not. What I am saying is this: there is no secret that lucky people know and unlucky people don't. Success depends upon your choices and your actions, your habits and your diligence, your persistence and your willingness to work hard, every day, until you see movement. Then you work harder. You are not the victim of cosmic oversight.

Success isn't a given to the lucky few; there are no automatic winners and automatic victims.

But we are enamored of victimization. It is appealing. It removes the responsibility from our shoulders. We can sigh and say, Oh well, it isn't my fault. But if it isn't your fault, my friend, then you really are powerless to fix it. Sure, there is resistance to action, to change, to forward movement, to positive choices. Resistance comes from everywhere: your family, your friends, the culture, the workplace, your peers, your church, your social life. The only Resistance that matters, though, the only one that can actually stop you, is what you allow to come from yourself.

We all have a calling, a work.

Destiny. Fate. Choice. Success. It's what you burn with, what you hate hearing about when it isn't about you, what you can't stop thinking about, what you love, what you drift to while you're waiting for the plane to take off or the game to start or your friend to call. Some of us have covered it deeply and can't even call its name right now. We may have forgotten, but it is a temporary forgetting, one we walked into voluntarily. Somehow we forgot how to stop forgetting. We fixate on little things, details, methods, tradition, criticism, circumstance and let the most important things drift away.

The call isn't lost.

The work, the sanctity, the dream, the draw: it is just buried. It is not my job to tell you what it is. You know it's there. Keep walking toward something better, even if in little steps. Resist the Resistance. You will begin to uncover treasure.

Even if my qualifications seem best, I may not be right for the job. I may, in fact, be very, very wrong. It’s my job to determine what belongs to me and what doesn’t.

Figuring Out What Belongs to You

How do I know what belongs to me and what does not? How do I get rid of the things that are not truly my responsibility? Let's start with a simple process of taking inventory. What am I currently taking responsibility for? Look at all the roles you play, then look at all the activities and tasks within each role. For example, I am (in no particular order) a wife, a mother, a sister and daughter, a friend, a Christian, a church member, a writer, a homemaker, a musician, a website manager, a woman, a cook, a gardener, and an entrepreneur. I could probably come up with more if I kept at it a little longer.

Within my role of church member, I have taken on the responsibilities of going to church every Sunday, playing on the worship team each week as well as compiling our worship set, emailing it to the worship team, attending practice each week, participating in ladies' bible studies, fellowship dinners, and occasional "extra" worship times. Yet I still feel guilty when I walk by the table in the foyer and see the Church Cleaning Sign-up Sheet, because my name is nowhere on it. The only way I can keep myself from compulsively taking on the bathroom cleaning for the entire month is by remembering what my responsibilities as a church member already are. Once I mentally review them, I realize that I can take on no more unless I let something go. It isn't that I can't clean bathrooms or am unwilling to; it's that I have already dedicated my time and effort to other activities in the church, and I don't have any additional time to give. That's my line and I dare not cross it.

Get Your Paper and Pen and Get Ready...

Be thorough as you list your roles and your activities within them. Picture yourself walking through your day and jot down everything you take responsibility for. Perhaps you feel guilty about missing dinner with your sister but she didn't tell you the plans until the day of. Why do you feel guilty? Because you feel responsible. Why do you feel responsible? Read the rest of this entry »

"Worry comes from trying to control anything which I am not equipped nor prepared nor responsible to control: in other words, anything outside of my sphere of responsibility, my “circle of authority.” How often do I step outside this circle and try to drag something back in with me, something that does not fit, something that belongs in someone else's care?"

The Worry Addiction

We start the moment we wake up in the morning and keep at it until exhaustion finally shuts off our active brain. We continue even in sleep, in our subconscious and our dreams bringing out our worries and tossing them around, sorting them, counting and naming and nurturing them. We must have something to gnaw on, something to worry with, to examine and analyze, to prove or disprove, to criticize or fear or envy. We are compulsive worriers.

Why do we nurture this worry habit? Have you noticed that no matter how quickly one problem is solved we find another one immediately to take its place? We don't recognize the cycle as a cycle, an addictive cycle, and we honestly believe that “once this mess is taken care of,” everything will be back to normal again. But normal, for most of us, involves perpetual worry because we gain from it a feeling of control. But wouldn't it be nice to do something besides worry? Read the rest of this entry »

"You said you would call."

"You're late."

"You forgot again."

"I just want a nice quiet dinner out with you. Is that too much to ask?"

"You paid how much?"

If only you would listen more, visit sooner, take out the trash, remember my birthday, make more money, quit working on the weekends, get home on time, buy me something nice, play with the kids, talk to me, pick up your clothes, call more often...

The list never ends. Come on. You know you have one: that list, that mental checklist of what makes a great husband, kid, friend, mother... fill in the blank. You have one for yourself and you feel guilty when you don't live up to it. You have one for all the people around you, too, some more complicated and specific than others. Ladies, the list you have for your husband is probably a document vying with White House legal memorandums in length, specificity, and total lack of intelligibility - to your husband. To you, it's perfectly understandable, isn't it? "It's not that complicated... all he has to do is just be here for me a little more, talk to me, be romantic, maybe bring me flowers every once in a while... that's not so much. It wouldn't hurt if he would start working out again, too, and spend more time with the kids. And he could get that raise if he really pushed for it, and then we could have a nice vacation..."

When is the list ever completely fulfilled? Maybe you don't know its length and complexity as well as you think you do. The list, you see, changes, grows, morphs with each action or non-action. There is no end. It is, like the grave and the fire, never satisfied. It is you, and it is based on your expectations of who and what someone should be.

Everyone has expectations. True. We've all grown so accustomed to them we overlook their affect. They are deadly little beasts, sucking the life and joy out of every relationship into which they creep. They remove our ability to be surprised, delighted, and content. Contentment receives what comes - what happens - what other do or say - with an attitude of humility and disregard for self. Contentment does not mean "not wanting." It is not the absence of any desire. Contentment means, no matter what the desire, there is an attitude of acceptance. I will take what is given even if it is not what I desired.

Expectations are based on pride. I know what should happen. My way is the best. My plan is better. You should do what I want. When people fail to meet our expectations, we get angry because they have not recognized and submitted to our superior plans for them. Obviously if they really understood the situation... if they really got it... they would see things our way. Right?

Assumptions are those controlling, basic habits of the mind. They are what we think without thinking. They are the default. An assumption is a "statement that is assumed to be true and from which a conclusion can be drawn," or "a hypothesis that is taken for granted" (WordNet).

We all operate from assumptions to some degree. We assume the world will keep spinning, the sun will rise, and our boss will expect us to show up at work as usual. So we set the alarm, get up, get dressed, and go to work. What's the problem with assumptions like that? Nothing, really. Those type of assumptions are what I call experiential assumptions. They are based on our former experiences and validated every time the experience is repeated, which is usually often.

Many experiential assumptions are accurate to a large degree, perhaps even for all of our lives. What happens, however, is that as we operate on a daily basis from experiential assumptions, we think less often and less consciously and simply operate on automatic. We get lazy.

We have assumptions about each other: spouse, children, parents, siblings, co-workers, friends, strangers. We have assumptions about spirituality, intellect, physical history, relationships, and morality. We carry these assumptions with us and apply them to the appropriate subjects without stopping to think about what the assumptions are, where they came from, what they are based on, and whether they are accurate. We assume they are true without stopping to question their history, logic, source, or motivation.

Racism comes from unquestioned assumptions. Discrimination of all kinds comes from unquestioned assumptions. Persecution - both of the religious and by the religious - comes from unquestioned assumptions. These unquestioned, unfounded assumptions are usually based on little more than the attitudes and concepts we picked up as children from our families, our peers, and our culture. They might have been someone else's experiential assumption in a different time and place, but they may no longer be valid. Or they may be based on a one-time, never-repeated experience so powerful that a person based a life's assumption upon it, and then passed it on to you. You assumed it was accurate. You assumed you could trust the source.

Assumptions are subtle and dangerous due to that subtlety. Even when they are mostly accurate, if they are never questioned, never grounded on something more than tradition, we accept the danger of operating our daily lives on the basis of something that may be relative to time, place, and preference.

Examining our assumptions is a basic first step toward living a life that is thoughtful and fulfilling. Here's an exercise that can help you get started.

• 1. Write down ten foundational beliefs you have. They may not be the "top ten" but you will probably think of the most important things first. If you have trouble getting started, ask yourself what you believe about these topics:  God/spirituality, family, relationships, work, your past, your personality, and money.
• 2. Now comes the questioning. For each belief you wrote down, ask these questions: What is this belief based on? What is the source of this belief? What is the reasoning behind this belief? Has my personal experience repeatedly validated this belief? When did I choose to believe this?
• 3. Based on your answers, you can determine if what you've written as a belief is that - something you have consciously chosen to put faith in based on reason and/or experience -  or if it is merely an assumption, something handed down to you that you simply accepted.
• 4. Now what? The "beliefs" that turned out to be assumptions are not necessarily inaccurate; they just give you a starting point. Start digging. Start thinking. Do some research. Start looking for something true and real about these assumptions of yours. Are they worthwhile? Do they merit a place as a foundational belief that will influence the course of your life?

1. Always be on the phone when you see him at the end of the day.

   Preferably, be talking to your girlfriend, your sister, or your mom about a topic that either (a) irritates him or (b) means absolutely less than nothing to him. Give him a slight wave but don't interrupt your conversation to give him a kiss, a smile, or a word. Continue talking with all the intensity you can muster. Be extremely interested in your conversation. Show no signs of slowing down just because he's around. And make sure you talk loudly, pace, or otherwise make yourself impossible to ignore. If you're at home, be sure the kitchen is dark and cold and very much untouched by you.

2. Talk to him like you would to your five-year-old nephew.

   An extremely effective method of irritation. Make sure you use the same small words, repeat yourself, ask if he understands at the end of every sentence, and throw in a somewhat drippy, condescending tone to top it all off. Use an appropriate pet name: cutie, silly boy, munchkin, and little man are all excellent choices.

3. Never tell him what's of concern to you, and never ask for his help.

   Be sure your stress is evident: creased brow, frown lines, nervous movements, loud sighs, and lots of muttering to yourself. If he takes the bait and asks you what's wrong, look at him like you forgot he was there, give a little laugh and say, “Oh, nothing honey, really...” Then ask him a very unimportant question using Method #2. Be sure you continue to look adequately stressed about your issue as he answers your question. Bonus points: Have a muttered, somewhat secretive phone conversation with girlfriend/sis/mom about said issue later that night. Be sure he sees you and catches your stressed tone of voice.

4. Keep a mental list of his faults; add to it continually.

   Of course you know he's not perfect, and the best way to show him that you know is to keep thinking about all the ways he isn't. You actually don't have to say any of these out loud to communicate your displeasure (although there will be chances for that, too). Just keeping that mental list will be sufficient, and be sure you add every new fault you notice as soon as you notice it, even if it's only happened once. Also, come up with creative little titles for the faults on your mental list. Include dramatic words with a sense of finality and hopelessness. For example, “picks his nose in the car” should be called “Is SO disgusting because he's ALWAYS shoving his finger up his nose in the MIDDLE of traffic.” Much more effective.

5. Mock him publicly, especially in front of your family and/or his friends.

   You will, of course, never be at a loss for what to mock him about since you've got that handy mental list ready at all times. And since you're continually thinking about it and adding to it, you'll be able to create a connection with whatever conversation you're in, no matter how vague to everyone else. Example: You run into a couple of friends at the grocery store who relate the horrible car wreck they witnessed yesterday. You listen and nod and then say, “Well, at least Jimbo here wasn't with you. He would've just stuck his finger up his nose as usual, right in front of all the cops...” Ignore Jimbo's look of chagrin. Ignore the fact that you've only actually seen him pick his nose twice in your entire relationship.

6. Moderate your interest level carefully.

   This is a key concept if you really want to alienate your husband. You need to practice because if you go too overboard with either demonstration it will just be weird. So get those “I'm really interested” signals down very well. Use them anytime you get a phone call, anytime you're talking about your past, anytime someone else in a group that includes your husband is talking, and especially when you're talking about your preferences, your day, or your emotions. Now, for the “I'm not at all interested and I'm just managing to tolerate the hideous boredom of this conversation” signals, pick key times. These include anytime your husband is talking about his family, his work, or his past; anytime he shares an idea (any kind of idea); anytime you're at some event that is more in keeping with his interests than yours; and especially anytime he hints around for intimacy. Really, the only time you should show interest when your husband talks is when he talks about you.

7. Cultivate irritating habits.

   The infamous silent treatment is probably the mother of all irritating habits. Be sure you use that one often. Nagging, of course, is another especially effective irritation. Use a whiny voice even when you're in a good mood. Sigh often without explanation. Blame everything on your hormones, your past, or your husband's typically male inability to be sensitive enough. Make fun of anything overtly masculine about him. Make fun of anything he likes that you don't. Forget the names of important people from his past. Act a little fuzzy about what he actually does at work when anyone asks. Get a baby-innocent blank look to employ when he asks you about his favorite sweater, season tickets, or “planned” trip to his family reunion. Come up with a girly, demeaning name for his favorite band, sport, place, food, etc., and use it often.

8. Be obviously manipulative.

   Face it, you're probably manipulative anyway, and it's probably obvious to your husband even if he doesn't point it out. Well, go ahead and play it up for all it's worth. Use that baby voice. Use sex as a prize if he does what you want (or lack thereof as punishment if he doesn't). Use all your best irritating habits to get what you want. Nag him about a vacation until he agrees. Start giving him the silent treatment if he doesn't seem interested in taking you to that new romantic comedy (making it even more romantic when he finally does agree to take you). Threaten to call his mother, your mother, his boss, or his best friend whenever needed. Use impossibly unreasonable jabs like “Do you really want me to be unhappy?” and “You really hate our kids, don't you?” and “I just never expected you to be so insensitive all the time.”

9. Never tell him what you want in a way that makes sense.

   Rely on your irritating habits and manipulation skills to get what you want. Never, ever just ask him for something in a normal voice. If he asks you a direct question about your preference, just say something like, “Oh, you know.....” or “Oh... I don't really care....”. Of course, if he makes the mistake of taking you seriously and simply making a decision without questioning you further and deciphering your hints until he finally figures out what you do want, employ one of those irritating habits like the silent treatment.

10. Maintain your impossible expectations.

    All those items on your mental list of your husband's faults are probably negative exaggerations of your own expectations of what he should be. By all means, hang on to these expectations, no matter how silly, because they are invaluable in keeping your husband alienated. Whatever you do, never consider the possibility that your expectations are the problem, not your husband's hideous faults. Meditate on your expectations religiously. See them as the key to your happiness. Refer to them as the only separation between the two of you and marital bliss. Take no responsibility for your attitudes or emotions when they go haywire due to an expectation being, once again, grossly unfulfilled. Consider yourself a selfless martyr every time your husband fails to either automatically understand an expectation or flawlessly meet it.

Employ these ten simple habits and you are well on your way to continual conflict, total dissolution of mutual interests, and marital hell. They're effective enough to be used singly whenever harmony seems to be rearing its ugly head, but are especially helpful when collectively applied over time. Ruin your marriage – don't let a day go by without alienating your husband!